


paper...

by startswithhope



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Anniversary, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Future Fic, Kissing, M/M, POV David Rose, they are both sentimental fools
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:40:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26274235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: ...he’d expected something grandiose today. And yes, he knows it’s supposed to be paper, thanks to someone back in the middle ages coming up with the rules that now everyone is apparently supposed to follow. But Patrick didn’t even give him a card, which would be the bare minimum when it comes to paper gifts.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 24
Kudos: 170





	paper...

The first hint of confusion arose during breakfast. **  
**

It was a lovely meal, with powdered sugar dusted pancakes and the expensive syrup they only use sparingly because no one should ever pay $18 for a bottle that small, even if the purchase had secured them a new vendor. He’d smiled into sticky kisses and blushed when his husband had whispered “happy anniversary” into this ear as he’d refilled his coffee mug. They’d even found themselves leaving to open the store about twenty minutes late after he’d backed Patrick up against the counter and nosed his way into the open collar of his shirt.

It had been a truly great start to their first anniversary.

But he hasn’t received any gifts yet and that just, well, it’s just not Patrick. 

As he futzes with the scarf display on the wall he can feel his face heat up from just thinking about those first few months and Patrick’s succession of anniversary gifts, each one more ridiculous than the next. He won’t linger on month four, for obvious reasons, but the autographed photo of Mariah Carey he received for month nine is one of his prized possessions. He wasn’t able to hold back his reaction to it, despite his professed continued annoyance at receiving the monthly gifts. 

So, understandably, he’d expected something grandiose today. And yes, he knows it’s supposed to be paper, thanks to someone back in the middle ages coming up with the rules that now everyone is apparently supposed to follow. But Patrick didn’t even give him a card, which would be the bare minimum when it comes to paper gifts. 

He’d given Patrick his gift this morning, telling him that he had to wait until later to open it because he’d be too embarrassed and needed to get through their workday before the emotional overload of it all hits. Patrick had just said thank you and kissed him and tucked the gift away in his bedside drawer before finishing his morning routine. Nothing was said about a gift in return. Not a word.

The sound of Patrick’s shoes against the wood planks alerts David to his arrival mere seconds before he’s engulfed in an around the back hug, the solidness of Patrick’s chest absorbing his own body's shock at being snuck up on.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.” Patrick’s voice is low and rumbly and tinged with just enough mirth for David to know that he absolutely did.

“Likely story.”

Reaching up he does one last, completely unnecessary, shuffle of the scarfs before turning in Patrick’s arms, quickly arranging his hands around his husband’s neck so he can get a good look at his face. With his head slightly cocked and his lips scrunching up at the corner, he narrows his eyes and tries to read this face he knows as well as his own to see if there’s some clue as to what he might be up to. There has to be a plan for something big, something designed to embarrass him while maddeningly charming him even more.

“Am I going to find myself on some horrifying Scavenger Hunt that takes me all over town talking to people I only mildly tolerate just so you can prove how romantic you are?”

Patrick’s brow furrows in immediate confusion before he’s scoffing through his nose and shaking his head with a wide smile.

“Um, no.”

“No?”

“No. But only because there was no way Roland or Ronnie would be able to keep their mouths shut.”

“And not because your husband would have divorced you?”

“Hmmm...no, that didn’t factor in.”

Patrick has begun to sway his hips, leaving them standing in the middle of their store looking like teenagers at a high school dance and David, huffing in mock annoyance, doesn’t do a thing to stop it.

“You know I’m not a fan of surprise parties, right?”

“David.”

“What?”

“Did you not enjoy your breakfast?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t mention that the wild blueberries they have out front would have made the pancakes even more perfect, because that would sound selfish and unappreciative.

“Good,” Patrick says, punctuating the single word with a quick kiss at the edge of David’s mouth.

Okay, so...maybe breakfast was his gift? A small, but sweet gesture, something just for the two of them to enjoy. He’s happy with that. Really, he is. So he leans in with a smile, welcoming Patrick’s lips as they come back for more. As he kisses his husband, swaying softly in this store that they built, he’s content, happy. 

_Nope, he’s still really fucking confused._

Pulling back sharply, he shakes his head, anxious energy causing his muscles to tense as he narrows his eyes at Patrick.

“No, no, no. There is no way this is it. I know you. Where is it?”

Patrick’s smile has given him completely away and David welcomes the relief and triumph that immediately begins to calm his nerves.

“I have no idea what you’re…”

Lifting a single finger in the air, David cuts him off.

“Hand it over.”

Patrick’s hands fall from David’s waist and end up deep in his pockets and his head drops slightly, his smile small and a bit shy for a moment before he turns and heads towards the counter. Immediately, David feels bad and tries to make amends.

“Wait, where are you…?”

“I’m getting your present, David.”

_Oh._

David’s stomach does a little flip of anticipation, his body giving away that he actually enjoys Patrick’s romanticism more than he’ll ever admit out loud. He takes a few steps towards the counter, but stops when he sees Patrick emerge from the back room with his wallet in his hand. This is very curious, he thinks to himself, but keeps his lips sealed as Patrick comes back to stand in front of him with his wallet open.

“Now, remember, the first anniversary present is supposed to be paper,” he begins, his eyes locking with David’s for a moment before he looks down at his fingers as they dig into the space behind his rarely used frequent flyer card. What he pulls out is small and white, hidden a bit behind his thumb.

“And this, it’s the most important piece of paper I have.”

David reaches out and within seconds, everything around them disappears and it’s just the two of them and this moment. With the small slip of paper caught between his fingers and Patrick’s, he’s hit like a tidal wave as soon as he recognizes what it is.

“ _Oh my god_. You kept this?”

The paper is smooth and the v shaped edges are a little bent and his fingers are trembling slightly as he moves his thumb to reveal “ **B-13** ” in lovingly faded ink.

“Yeah,” Patrick admits, his voice so soft that David has to look up from the paper, desperate to cling onto the emotions dripping off that one single word. “I...uh...put it in my wallet that night when I was cleaning up my desk. It felt...I dunno, important somehow.”

David feels transported to another time and place, with a guy he was really starting to like sitting across from him in a blue blazer and expressive eyes, professing that his gift of their first receipt from the store was _“nothing”_ when they both knew it was everything.

He’s at a total loss for words. 

But he’s learned that Patrick doesn’t always need them.

So, careful to protect the precious paper in his hand, he steps in close to his husband and lets out a deep, happy sigh and finds his mouth for a kiss he hopes is communicating _“thank you”_ and _“I can’t believe you still have this”_ and _“I love you forever”_. Patrick’s hand finds the side of his face to hold him close and they get lost for a while, eventually stumbling into the back room to make out between the storage racks until a very unwelcome customer sets off the bell above the door. 

David does, many hours later and in the privacy of their bedroom, find the words. 

But they were written years ago. Words of attraction and confusion and fear of heartbreak, excitement, love and acceptance, neatly sprawled on page after page of his journal, pages he’d carefully removed and had rebound into a book, perfectly wrapped in black and white paper in Patrick’s bedside drawer.


End file.
